


made of desire

by mirawonderfulstar



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Empathy, Homoerotic Violence, M/M, Mind Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Wall Sex, the Wall Slam in the trailer Did Me In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 12:38:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18073553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirawonderfulstar/pseuds/mirawonderfulstar
Summary: "how inconvenient to be made of desire" -larissa phamCrowley discovers something at Tadfield Manor.Please note this was written before the show came out based on speculation of what the wall slam in the trailer would be about in a larger context.





	made of desire

“What the hell is it?” Aziraphale said, his eyes wide as he tried to peer out the little window into the grounds.

Crowley smiled like a snake, and Aziraphale’s grip on his arm tightened, clutching Crowley almost painfully tightly. Crowley tried to wrench his arm away.

“Let go of me.” Crowley hissed. “I don’t see why you’re so shocked, he wanted a real gun. Every desire in his head was for a real gun.” Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue, fury on his face, fingers still digging into Crowley’s forearm through the wrinkling sleeve of his suit.

“But you’ve turned him loose on all those unsuspecting people!” Aziraphale said, his voice climbing in anger and horror.

“Oh, not exactly. Fair’s fair.” Crowley said with forced flippancy, looking significantly from Aziraphale’s face down to where he was still gripping him. Aziraphale shot him a look of deep disgust and let go at last, heading for the door.

“I can’t believe you.” He snarled. “I can’t believe, at a time like this, I have to go clean up after—"

Crowley grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and hauled him against the wall, slamming him back rather harder than was probably necessary in retaliation for the bruise that was blooming just above his wrist.

“Listen to me.” Crowley said, taking in Aziraphale’s shocked expression with some satisfaction. “Nobody is actually going to get hurt, they’re all going to have miraculous escapes. Buys us some time to look around. Now please, angel, settle down.”

Aziraphale blinked at him. “You said he _wanted_ a real gun?”

“Yes, of course. All those people out there, wishing they could actually hurt each other, and…” Crowley trailed off, because he was suddenly becoming aware of a very different desire, one much closer to home. “... _oh_.”

Aziraphale’s mouth was very close. Crowley was still clutching his coat and he could sense, dimly, the swirling, coalescing want coming off of him in waves.

“They want weapons and you… want me.” The words came out rather breathless, but Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice or care because his hands were twisting in the back of Crowley’s jacket, pulling him closer. “Angel…” Crowley shuddered and closed his eyes as Aziraphale’s desire washed over him, Crowley kissing his neck, his jaw, Aziraphale’s head falling back against the wall with a moan, Crowley pressing closer.

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale said, sounding mortified. “Now isn’t the time or the place.”

Crowley opened his eyes and stared into Aziraphale’s, blown wide and dark with lust. He rolled his hips and Aziraphale’s lips parted as he gasped, and Crowley surged forward.

It was always something, to be able to feel how badly someone wanted you as you kissed them. Heady and intoxicating and gratifying, the way Aziraphale was clutching him, pushing a knee between Crowley’s legs. Crowley lost himself in the kiss, in Aziraphale’s mind, in the image of the angel fucking him into the wall, his voice a litany of pleas and moans under Aziraphale’s mouth and hands and hips.

“It’s the only time.” Crowley said against the shell of his ear. “We’re running out.”

Aziraphale made a choked sound and Crowley barely had a chance to breathe before he had whirled them around.

Now it was Crowley backed against the wall, Aziraphale grinding against him, one of Aziraphale’s hands on his shoulder and the other making its way between them and down into Crowley’s pants. One of Crowley’s hands settled on Aziraphale’s hips as he responded in kind, holding on for dear life as the angel stroked him. He kissed Aziraphale’s jaw again, moving his hand haphazardly as the images he was getting from Aziraphale shattered and were ground down and blown away like sand, leaving nothing but the ache of his own name in Aziraphale's mind, desperate, overwhelmed.

Crowley came with a cry he failed to stifle in Aziraphale’s shoulder, feeling the angel follow him not a moment later. He made no move to pull away, and Crowley closed his eyes, resting against Aziraphale for just a moment. Just until he had the chance to catch his breath.

They stood very still, panting in each other’s arms, Crowley held up only by the wall and Aziraphale’s weight against him. Then Aziraphale cleared his throat and Crowley opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Aziraphale said quietly. “We should… we should get on with searching the building, yes?”

Crowley nodded, miracling them both clean and straightening his jacket. He tried not to look at the red spot on Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale pulled away from him with very evident regret, although whether that regret was for what they had just done of for the fact it was over, Crowley wasn’t sure. The angel's mind was muddled now, foggy, or maybe it was Crowley who couldn’t see. Part of him wondered if Aziraphale was feeling as fatalistic and hopeless as he himself was feeling, but when he opened his mouth to ask, the idea of having to share something like that with Aziraphale only to lose him in a few days’ time if they failed stopped him.

They headed upstairs, and as they went, all Crowley could think of was how wretched it was that it had taken them the threat of the end of the world to grow close to each other again, and that nonetheless it was only now, in the literal end days, that they had managed to make it this far.

 

 


End file.
